Nor No Man Ever Loved
by ToryTigress92
Summary: AU inspired by Shakespeare's 'Cymbeline'. Jane is the heir to the throne of Midgard, desired by Prince Thor, her stepbrother and Prince of Asgard, however her heart is given to his mother's ward, Loki. Their defiance of the King's will leads to separation and trials, as their love is tested to the utmost, and betrayal seems set to separate them forever.


Nor No Man Ever Loved

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

'_Let me not to the marriage of true minds_

_Admit impediments. Love is not love_

_Which alters when it alteration finds,_

_Or bends with the remover to remove:_

_O no! it is an ever-fixed mark _

_That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

_It is the star to every wandering bark,_

_Whose worth's unknown, although his height be 's not Time's fool,_

_ though rosy lips and cheeks _

_Within his bending sickle's compass come: _

_Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, _

_But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

_If this be error and upon me proved,I_

_ never writ, nor no man ever loved.'_

_**- Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare**_

* * *

The sun shone down on a sprawling, marble city, laid out over a emerald green island, in the centre of a glistening blue-grey lake, like a spider at the heart of a web.

The Midgardian breeze lifted and played teasingly with the pennants and crests that thronged the group of people waiting on the steps of the palace in the very heart of the web of this rambling city.

One was a tall, aging but still attractive man, swathed in robes of deep, almost blood, red. Beside him stood a beautiful woman with flaxen gold hold, swept up into an elaborate style but for one stray curl that laid against her neck. Her gown of jewelled aquamarine spilled down the steps, and her smile was gentle as she looked out, out beyond the city limits, and beyond, her gaze far-off and unnoticing of all that was happening around her. They were surrounded by their courtiers, lords and ladies all garbed in luxuriant silks and armour.

The Queen's son and her ward were due to arrive home any moment, after some months' absence in Asgard.

In the crowd of lords and ladies awaiting, one stood apart from them all, eyes fixed as firmly on the horizon as the Queen's. Gowned in twilight indigo, the heavy court gown clung to her figure, her hair elaborately coiled atop her head, in rigid curls of softest caramel. Her dark eyes were unblinking as she scanned the sky for the first signs of the Bifrost bridge forming.

Her hand went to the golden choker around her neck, four bands around her throat, connected by vertical strips of softened gold, inlaid with subtle runes from Asgard, runes she was still not adept at understanding, but all but vibrated beneath the pads of her fingers as they passed over them.

_**He**_ had given it to her, on her last birthday. It made her smile as she remembered everything that had happened since the King had adopted her as his daughter and heir after the death of her parents.

* * *

_She fidgeted. She couldn't help it, she didn't mean to fidget, but she did nonetheless. Her new dress was heavy and itchy, and she was bored. It was a cold winter morning on the Eastern seaboard, and she didn't understand why she'd been dragged from her bed._

_The King was marrying the widowed Queen of Asgard, and she was to arrive today, with her son and her ward, a young orphan who was known as Loki. He was gifted the name of Odinson, but it was a gift only. He had no blood connection to the Queen or her young son, Thor._

_She'd been told this was important, that this was a merging of two great Realms, and she had to act like a lady._

_She hated wearing dresses. She hated being a lady._

_Suddenly a funnel of blinding light and thunder shot from the clouds above the assembled crowd, and she restrained a need to shield her eyes from the bright column of light. _

_The smoke and the light cleared away to reveal a party of brightly clothed and armoured men and women, the likes of which she had never seen before. She had grown up in the court, seen the handsomest men and loveliest women Midgard had to offer, but they all paled in comparison to the ethereal beings walking towards them._

_The King stepped forward, with a welcoming smile, as a tall, stately lady in white furs reached for his hands. "Welcome, my Queen," he murmured huskily. "Midgard welcomes you and yours."_

"_I am greatly honoured," she smiled warmly, before her eyes fell to her, standing just behind the King. "And who is this?"_

"_May I present the Lady Jane Foster, my adopted heir and daughter since her parents left her to my guardianship," the King pushed her forward gently. "Make your bow, my Lady."_

_She glanced up at the King, then at the Queen. "Why?" she asked, with all the impetuosity of youth. "She's not __**my**__ Queen."_

_Everyone stilled, in horror and disbelief, and the King's eyes blazed. But before anyone could say anything, a musical laugh filled the air. The Aesir Queen was laughing._

"_Not yet. Spirited child," she smiled. "Erik, you did not tell me of this fire spirit before. That was very remiss of you."_

"_I apologise for her words, my Queen," the King bowed over the Queen's hand, which he still held. "She forgets her place sometimes."_

"_There's nothing wrong with a little spirit," the Queen smiled, a little mistily. "She shall get along with several young ladies in my retinue, I feel."_

_She caught the Queen's glance to a raven-haired girl, barely fourteen and gangly with it, who eyed her appraisingly. Feeling foolish in her silly dress, she met her gaze and made sure not to fidget this time, and approval filtered into the dark-eyed girl's gaze._

"_Very well indeed," the Queen chuckled. "May I present some young ones of my own?" she held out a hand, and a tall, golden youth stepped up to take her hand. "My son, Prince Thor of Asgard. And my ward, the Lord Loki Odinson."_

_Her eyes were instantly drawn to the darker of the two boys, both the same age, and yet as different as night and day. Thor barely looked at her beyond a courteous bow with a slight hint of disapproval for her words earlier, but Loki's eyes twinkled with mischief. He couldn't be more than sixteen, three years older than her, but he emanated poise and grace in a way his companions, all gangly, towering creatures, did not._

_His eyes spoke of secrets and knowledge, and darkness and starlight. She longed to drown in them. _

"_I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, my Lady Jane," he smiled and bowed over her hand. She suddenly felt stupidly grown-up and giggly, and restrained the urge with a certain amount of horror. She affected a bored, disinterested mask, and met his eyes indifferently. _

_The look in his eyes when he rose from his bow was not deceived._

* * *

They had become close friends after that. Thor and his circle of friends were amusing enough, but their chief interest was in fighting and practicing with their weapons. Her other friends enjoyed watching them enough, Darcy mooning over the Lord Fandral, and Lady Natasha stealing longing, secretive glances at the Lady Sif, the dark-haired girl the Queen had pointed out to her, when she trained with her glaive.

While their displays and mock-fights were impressive enough, she enjoyed the conversations she had with Loki. He trained and sparred too, but there was an intellectual depth and thirst in him, that the others did not possess. Her blossoming mind, always sharp, hungered for all he knew, from the superior education and libraries of Asgard, and they sat long by the fire in the palace library, reading and talking quietly. She learned far more from him than she did from any of her tutors.

He spoke of magic, and she listened spellbound, enthralled as he spoke, making connections between Asgardian concepts and Midgardian theories.

As the years went by, she grew into a woman but she did not easily become a lady. The King had long despaired of taming his wayward adopted daughter, who rode hell-for-leather with the Prince and his gang, and fought in the mud, and read books by firelight in the library with the dark ward of his Queen.

The Queen was subtler than he, and over the years, she accepted the female art of dressing and speaking as second nature, but she never forgot her true self, nor did she ever forgo the opportunity to throw off the fine dresses and furs, and go riding with Loki and Thor.

Thor became like an elder brother to her, Sif a sister, and the others lovable brothers who doted on her as such. But for some reason, one she did not understand until her eighteenth year, Loki was never a brother to her.

* * *

_She sat in the grass, the long curving stalks almost hiding her entirely, as she sat and played with a daisy. They had gone to England, to the King's summer residence there, and the sun beat down almost oppressively above her head._

_It had been nearly five years since the marriage of the King and Queen, and the union of Midgard and Asgard. She was fast approaching her eighteenth birthday._

_Her hair was bound and coiled against her head, the remainder tumbling down her back in wild curls. The rigid corset she was forced to wear pressed against her spine and stomach, and she longed to rip it off. The silken skirts of her gown, golden and embroidered with tiny flowers, tangled around her legs and stuck to her skin. _

_Sif and Natasha were so lucky. Sif was a warrior, a shield maiden of Asgard, and despite her Midgardian birth, Natasha was to become one too. They weren't forced into uncomfortable dresses._

_She had to be 'regal'. Quite what that meant, she wasn't sure._

"_I should have known I would find you out here," a familiar voice called, and her head shot up, to see Loki standing not far away, watching with that smug, half-smile on his lips that she knew so well. _

_He had been gone for a year, continuing his studies in Asgard, and she had missed him. She still had Darcy, but the others were always busy, training or away studying in Asgard, like Loki. The only company she had were her books and the Queen's ladies, who bored her to tears with talk of gowns and men._

_She had missed him so much. They were never more than courteous in public, of course, but in private, as they were now, she didn't need to hold back. She didn't need to think._

_She stood and launched herself into Loki's arms, hugging him tightly as he stumbled under her sudden weight, then lifted her from her feet and swung her round and round. _

"_I missed you too, little bird," he whispered amusedly, in her ear. He had taken to calling her 'little bird' ever since he had told her she reminded him of a wild bird caught and stuffed into a gilded cage. _

_When they were alone, he called her 'his little bird'._

"_Don't be all smug with me," she punched his arm when he let her down. "You've been gone a year, off studying all kinds of fascinating things, while I've been stuck here. Going mad."_

"_Awww, poor little Lady Jane," he mocked her, dodging another punch. He caught her wrist and tugged her down onto the grass again._

"_Watch it, Silvertongue," she laughed, as she collapsed beside him. "Well, in recompense, tell me what you learned in Asgard."_

_Their conversation quickly turned to his studies, and she wistfully stated how much she wished she could have gone with him._

"_What would you wish to study?" he asked, watching her closely. She smiled, closed her eyes and held out her arms, as if to encompass the entire sky. _

"_The stars, the universe," she replied. She had been fascinated with them since she was a little girl. It was one topic of study the King had never frowned at her for pursuing, to an extent. She was a lady of the court and would one day be Queen, or some such nonsense. She wasn't allowed to be too knowledgeable._

_Not that it stopped her, usually. _

_She opened her eyes to see him smiling at her, gently, almost tenderly, and something in her heart stirred. His hand curved around her cheek, and she fought a sudden urge to nuzzle into his palm._

_What was happening to her?_

"_You've grown up, Jane," he breathed. "When I left, you were still a little snot-nosed brat with an attitude problem. Now you're a woman with an attitude problem."_

"_Nice," she snorted, trying to defuse whatever odd tension was suffusing them both, and anticipation sparked in her body, deep in her stomach, like a pool of heat. His eyes glinted like chips of raw emerald, dark and wanting. His hair, always rebellious, had grown until it reached his collar, the dark leather creaking as he leant towards her, almost unconsciously._

_His lips brushed hers, so gently it was almost intangible, but her breath hitched nonetheless. His lips moved against hers, and she uncertainly but boldly, returned the movement, finding the odd sensations elicited by their lips pleasurable, as her body heated and softened, and Loki's hand fell to her waist, pulling her in closer, against him. _

_He pulled his mouth away, and she followed him almost instinctively, not wanting to lose the heat of his soft, thin lips against her own. "Do you want me to kiss you again, my little bird?" he asked, in a low voice she'd never heard from him before. It was dark and wild, tempting her. Feeling an excited shiver, she nodded and his mouth was back against hers. She felt his tongue against the seam of her lips and willingly parted them, plucking up the courage to bury one hand in the softly gleaming locks of hair at his collar. She kissed him back with alacrity, passion growing and blooming inside of her until she felt she might explode, as her hand drifted higher through his hair, until her palm locked around the nape of his neck and her nails scraped against his scalp._

_He moaned into her mouth, and she willingly let him push her down beneath him, feeling a thrill at the hard, lean body against her own. He was only half-covering her, and while one hand was sunk in her curls, the other held his weight off of her, beside her waist. Her corset felt too tight, and she wanted nothing more than to rip it off again. Or for him to rip it off of her._

_Now she realised why he had never quite fit the mould of a brotherly figure to her. She felt safe and loved and wanted in his arms, as his kiss set her world spinning, but she also felt something she would never have felt in the arms of Thor, or Fandral, or any of the other young men at court._

_She felt safe, truly safe, as if he would do anything to keep her safe, but also that he valued her. Her mind, her opinions, her thoughts. She was more than just a beauty, or an ornament, or a pawn in the game of politics she was only just learning to play._

_She was his._

* * *

They had been inseparable after that, all through the summer. Loki was always careful, and so he never came to her bed, but it was enough for her, then.

Loki had been sent away again, at the end of the summer, serving as a diplomat and ambassador to the other Realms, a role the Queen had groomed him for, for many years. He was good at it, with his charm and his wit, his handsomeness and his cunning, and she enjoyed hearing his stories about the Realms he visited when he came home.

Always to her.

Then the war had started again. The Frost Giants of Jotunheim, sensing weakness now the All-Father was dead and there was no King in Asgard until Thor came of age, attacked, seeking vengeance for the murder of their own King, Laufey, and the destruction of their world. They broke into the vaults of Asgard and stole back the Casket of Ancient Winters. War had returned.

She still remembered their last meeting, at the winter solstice celebration, one night where the war and its losses had not plagued the people of Midgard, and everyone had come together to celebrate.

* * *

_She had been laughing at one of Lord Stark's many, really rather bad, jokes when she felt his gaze on her. _

_She could always feel it, like a wave of heat over her body, and she forced aside the urge to stiffen. She was no longer the tentative, naïve girl of eighteen Loki had called a woman. She was twenty seven now, and to her slight horror, highly skilled in the ways of the court. She knew enough about body language to know what not to do, and what not to show._

_With a polite nod and a gracious word, she disengaged herself from the group, and slipped anonymously into the crowd. She walked quickly out into a hallway, cool, dark, lit only by the fireworks outside._

_She had taken extra care that night, for once. Her hair was lustrous and shining, coiled elaborately and held with bands of lavender silk sewn with pearls from the Pacific. Her lithe figure was draped in backless pastel silks, like the sky at dawn, from pure white to palest pink at her hem. It trailed behind her like a river of snow and cream, her strong, graceful back exposed._

_She had worn it for him. He was supposed to be there, but bar a quick glimpse in the crowd as the King and Queen had led a toast, she had yet to find him. But now he'd called her, and she came gladly._

_She was unsurprised when a cool hand gripped her arm gently and pulled her into a dark alcove, turning her and pinning her against the wall. She raised her lips to his, running her fingers through his dark hair, a moan of longing ripped from her throat._

"_I've missed you so much," she breathed when he broke from her lips, both panting heavily from their passion. "When I heard about that attack on Alfheim…"_

"_I'm alright," he assured her with a cocky grin. "It would take far more than Frost Giants to stop me coming home to you, my little bird."_

_She smiled, and leant her forehead against his, sighing contentedly when his arms came around her, holding her firmly against him. "I love you," she whispered, owning to the truth for the first time as his eyes shone with lust and pride, and their lips met as if drawn by an inner gravity._

* * *

She remembered all of it as the Bridge exploded into existence, and the crowd cheered despite the returning party still being so far away. All she could think about was the man who was among them.

The winter solstice had been the last time she'd seen him, in six months, since he had accompanied Thor back to Asgard, to help him prepare to take the throne and to re-establish diplomatic ties with some Realms that had fallen out of touch with the rest of the Universe.

Sometimes it dizzied her, the world she lived in and would one day rule. She was to be a Queen someday.

And Loki would be her King. She was determined, and she had often spoken to Loki about declaring their love and their intention to wed to the court and their respective guardians. He had always demurred, put her off, but she was growing impatient.

She wanted to be his, and he hers, openly. It was one dream she had settled on having, if she could not have her other ones. No more skulking in shadows.

She was impatient to see him alone, but the niceties had to be observed. Once the party reached the palace, they greeted them formally, and Jane was relieved to see all her old friends again, safe and sound.

Lady Sif and Lady Natasha had both grown into lithe, deadly warrior maidens, battle-hardened but still beautiful. They were a lethal complement to one another, and fought as though it was but a dance to them.

Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun and Thor were all powerful, strong warriors, and the ladies swooned over the former and the latter. To her unease, Thor's lips lingered on her hand a little too long for her liking, despite greeting her as 'sister'.

And then Loki had come, bowing over her hand formally, and she had restrained a shiver of excitement at the desire hidden deep beneath his mask, that only he allowed her to see past, and that she saw now, for one unguarded moment, when his eyes met hers.

She slipped away as fast as she could, the train of her court gown gently _shushing_ behind her.

Once again he called her to the same hallway where they had last kissed, but this time, he was not so gentle. He pulled her into the alcove and kissed her hungrily, lustfully as she moaned and raked her hands through his untidy hair, long and dark between her fingers. There was a desperation in his kiss and in his touch that pulled at something deep within her, and she almost pulled back to demand to know what was wrong, when his whisper against her neck, against his gift to her, melted her thoughts away like smoke on the breeze.

"My little bird, my Jane," he breathed, as his lips gently caressed beneath her chin. "How I've missed you, my love."

She shook away her unease, and concentrated on the feel of his lips against hers. Her Loki was home and in her arms. That was all that mattered.


End file.
